Stay Here
by Novoux
Summary: Izaya has forgotten what the feeling of panicking feels like. Especially when Shizuo is too nosy for his own good.


He smirks, the usual kind of attitude and laughter with the edge of sadistic as soon as he hears his name. Everyone around them swarms and they're well-trained to know the sound of a rampaging beast, firing into fury that can't be extinguished until Izaya escapes as he always does.

Except this time is different from the usual cat and mouse chase. Sure there's a pole uprooted as he hears Shizuo coming closer, screeching his name in the same dull tone of anger and never getting what he wants. It's not so bad for the brute to be howling in rage as soon as Izaya escapes and he's got to start moving now if he wants to get out of this unscathed but there's a risk in his throat closing and his muscles tensing when he thinks of calling the beast. Drawing him out is what he always does, there's no problem with it and there's never been a problem when he loves to make a show of himself to the sheep that watch and scatter as soon as metal starts flying.

"I-za-ya!" Something isn't right. Izaya knows it's time for him to start running as the ground starts to tremble, pavement breaking under a monster and it's time to _move_ but he's a little slow to start, perhaps that's it. Not that he would rather risk it even further, not as he commands his legs to move and they're not going anywhere and this hasn't happened before. What a strange time to start, something so unusual it doesn't make any sense at all for why a god would be stopped by a monster.

And his breath catches in his throat and no sound comes when his lips form the words, waiting to taunt and insult and run until he can't breathe. But it's too late, the sense of urgency starting to fill his veins and he's none the wiser for why he can't move why his legs are refusing to move and he's rooted to the spot in the direct path for a light pole to start flying. He's not—it's not—why is this happening why is this now and what is stopping him from moving there shouldn't be anything at all and he's played this game enough times to know how it goes.

Shizuo comes into his line of sight, a definite sign of being too close and he can't _breathe_ his lungs are tight and filling with hot blood that hasn't spilled. What it takes to start forcing himself to run is the light pole in Shizu-chan's hands, bent at awkward angles that will be what his bones will look like if the beast gets any closer. The beast keeps moving, keeps stomping and the earth shudders and cracks under his feet before Izaya's legs stop freezing in place and he takes off. Heels spinning behind him his mind is already racing, unusual and still frustrating when he can feels all eyes on him and it's not supposed to be a bad thing but it is as soon as his legs shake and he's sprinting as fast as he can to get away. Just away, he tells himself and his brain is becoming a mess of too many thoughts splattered onto the walls of his skull.

The beast calls after him, rage in his voice and Izaya bites his lip with a laugh letting itself loose, blood staining his teeth and he doesn't notice how tightly his fingers dig into his palms until he tries to grab for a knife with slick fingers. All at once his mind decides it's not safe, maybe to cut short the usual activities but he can't just walk away on his pride like that. No matter the strange sensation of being drowned while he's still breathing, still laughing and sucking air and his teeth chatter in one move that have too much to not ask why.

"Get back here, you goddamn piece of shit!" The light pole whizzes by Izaya's ear, dangerously close going by the _woosh_ of air cutting and splitting, maybe his hair is so close he doesn't feel anything but the burn of anxiety setting his nerves on fire. It keeps the smirk off his face and he's not too sure what to think when his mind is racing too fast he can't keep up and it's starting to become more than frustrating when he can't _think_ and he can't can't can't—

A heavy swallow of air has him back up and moving again, not realizing he's slowed down or how much his limbs are shaking and the tiny acknowledgment at the back of his head is reminding him that there is not enough air to breathe. Stupid because he knows better and with a vending machine being uprooted as he darts through the streets he's thinking of the eyes on him and how many people there happen to be, watching him.

His throat burns as he swallows dryly, thick saliva choking its way down and he's starting to compute the statistics, something to calm the wild thoughts growing in his brain that fizz and don't stop squirming. Maybe he can just breathe and he knows he's fine, he's got a switchblade in one hand slippery with blood and he's melting, skin peeling off coming too fast he's not going to—trying to keep himself in check because the ache that starts in his chest and squeezes too tight makes his heart beat too quickly. Shizu-chan only makes it worse, exacerbating the sense of frustration with the flying objects and the call of a beast.

Maybe maybe maybe he's fine, he's okay, he's not doing anything differently and there's really no reason to be gasping for another breath, right as he turns a corner too sharply and his hands miss the turn but they scrape brick wall and come back bleeding. This hasn't happened before and it's an oddity that he wants to study but right now his mind is starting to scream in his ears that it's very wrong and he's never been one for a sense of judgment not fixed by his own decisions.

And when he turns his head back to see the face of an enraged beast it clicks in his mind and breaks off the record off the needle and something snaps when he feels it and his legs decide they don't want to work anymore. Not as he turns back and he sees eyes and faces of too many people watching him, waiting for him to fall and let the monster kill him he can't—Namie has reminded him that he's an idiot, making that mistake with those people who want information but can't pay so they take him instead, and it's quite all right because he's just fine afterward. He always comes back, after the bruises have faded and after the blood after it's okay to move and pretend it never happened.

But all of this is wrong. The faces, the eyes watching him the hands squeezing around his throat and he tries to force that stubborn word out of his throat because he will choke if it doesn't break free and he has to show himself that he's just fine.

Nothing works like that, he finds and he knows this to be true when he's not thinking and he's feeling too much he sees people and he sees them watching and he sees himself seconds before his legs give out and he doesn't see the pavement that rises to claim him. No one in the street has brought him down but it feels like their gazes are holding him down, there are too many things to keep track of and too many ways to fail in front of a monster and all of his humans.

Just like that, a god falls. Rebellion striking from his skull teeth chattering he feels the skin rip and the blood start to ooze as soon as he stops moving and he's flat on his back, bared for all to see and too bare to have any semblance of pride left. Ridiculous things to worry about when he knows he's fine but his thoughts are twisting and they're speaking too much to shut up already and there is just too much to think about to breathe and he can't do that too.

He doesn't see Shizuo stop. Doesn't see the monster readying to strike with a stop sign, only as he stomps up and his name is on those lips set in a snarl does he realize that the flea he's been hunting after hasn't moved an inch. Instead Izaya is on the ground, legs curled up almost in a protective stance and his eyes aren't seeing anything despite how wide they are. Even if Shizuo were to hit him now the bastard probably wouldn't see it anyway. Not with the panicked rise and fall of his chest and the silent communication that people are whispering there's _something wrong_ and as much as Shizuo hates the attention he hates it when Izaya plays his stupid games.

"Flea! Wake up so I can kill you!" Shizuo's foot slams into the pavement and he watches, almost too curious to notice how Izaya's not breathing, not moving an inch except to hide himself and his knuckles are skin-tight digging into the blood that's oozing from his palms. His face has a couple scratches, all of them bleeding from his little fall and watching Izaya like this is not something Shizuo intends to do for long.

It's just too _creepy,_ seeing Izaya like this. He doesn't get why the bastard's not moving or why he's breathing so hard and it's only shallow breaths and his eyes are dark and far, far away. But what he hates more than Izaya's stupid ranting is when the informant is too quiet for his own good.

Though never like he is now.

"Goddamn it," Shizuo snarls, tired of the people staring the whispering starting to get to him. His rage is still there, waiting to snap and kill the pest this time but he doesn't when his brain is cutting in and telling him not yet. Despite every urge and intention to he kneels to the ground, not sure how to process Izaya's entire body trembling, face hidden by his arms and at this point he's curled up as tightly as possible. One arm over his face is available for grabbing, lifting the flea up and pulling him too close for comfort but at least it gets the bastard to stop shivering like he is.

People are watching, waiting for the next bit of entertainment and whatever is going on with Izaya he thinks he can sympathize—well shit, now he's going soft—because one foot slamming and breaking pavement is enough to send the message as they scatter. It does nothing for the flea, reeking and when he shakes it feels like Shizuo's arm is going to fall off.

Izaya doesn't compute much, locked in his head as he thinks vaguely that his enemy may be holding on to him for one reason or another, not capable of questioning why or using the knife that's pried out of his hands to push him away. His thoughts are racing and everything feels numb, frustrating because he wants to run he doesn't want to be here and he can't stand being any closer to the monster who is holding him like a chew toy to be devoured.

"Fuckin' flea," Shizuo grumbles, muffled in Izaya's ears not hearing not—" _Breathe,_ you goddamn idiot," and he'll forget the rest of the world and everything leading up to black diamonds in his eyes losing sight and losing air when he's been caught by his enemy and up until recently bed partner in a strange twist of excitement and rushed adrenaline. Shizuo is none the wiser for why the idiot he's holding on to is twitching and maybe he's more oblivious than he'd care to be. It doesn't really matter, not that much.

So it's only charitable, when Izaya thinks clearly later on and finds himself in an apartment that is not his, that as soon as no one is looking his vision fades. And he must be hallucinating the lips on his, slanted and dry.

It's funny, because Shizu-chan would never do that. Not for the reason he feels the panic spiking in his blood so fast he can't keep his head on without wanting to run and his entire body revolting against him in the bitter irony that is Shizuo holding onto him and only he can be so stupid as to tell Izaya to breathe when he _is,_ just not enough.

The world darkens before he can make much meaning of anything at all.

* * *

 _This note will be on all of my new update series in the mini stories: I recently updated the program I use to write and there was a glitch that resulted in the deletion of a good chunk of my writing documents, including the plots for Edge, Person of Interest, Tedious, and many others. Many of my oneshots have gone missing and so I have not updated recently because of this. I'm still trying to get my documents back and if I have to, rewrite them. I won't be canceling anything, just trying to write. Thank you for your understanding, and please enjoy these short stories I'm writing while writing my other fics._

 _Thank you for reading._


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